


59. A Job Gone Wrong

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [59]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	59. A Job Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

Antony cracks open a beer for himself and hands the other across the table. "This is not our problem," he says, for what must be the tenth time at least. "They wanted to choose the explosives guy and they did and he was shit. I told them that, you told them that and Rhys told them that. We're not going back in."

"They're insisting we didn't do the job and the contract still stands," Marcus says, setting his beer on a coaster. It's the first time in a long time that he's been in Antony's place but he knows how much his mate values his property, the special pieces he's collected from around the world. "They want us to finish it."

"I don't give a fuck what they want," Antony says. "We didn't take their money, the job didn't get done, they can find someone else to do it. But if they use the same fucking plan with the same fucking guy, the result'll be the same."

"We could go back in with a smaller team," Marcus suggests. The last thing he wants to do is piss off these people. "Insist on using our guy."

Antony shakes his head. He's had it. He's exhausted and passed pissed off eons ago. "If they wouldn't listen to us on this, I don't trust them to listen a second time."

 _Two more days..._ Stephen thinks to himself. _Two more days and he's home_. He leans against the side of the elevator as it rises, he'd gone to the free running gym straight from work and now he's exhausted and sweaty. As is habit - and comfort - he pauses in the lobby to swap out his collars before opening the front door and stepping in, pulled up short when he hears Antony's voice. "Tony?"

"In here," Antony calls out, shooting Marcus a look.

"You want me to go?" his partner asks but Antony shakes his head. They're not done yet and he wants this finished.

Wearing long shorts, and a vest, trainers, Stephen drops his bag and moves into the main living area, he'd heard another voice, and that has him even more disconcerted - Antony rarely invites anyone into their home.

He's frowning when he sees both men - more so when he takes in Antony's demeanour, his lover is tense, angry and clearly pissed off. "Antony? Are you okay? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we just had a job get completely fucked up," Antony says, pulling Stephen into his arms and kissing him, despite Marcus's presence. "Through no fault of ours and we're figuring out what to do."

It's good to have his lover, his Sir, back and Stephen returns the kiss, though he's mindful of their guest. When he pulls back he nods at Marcus. "Hi," then he turns to his lover. "But everyone's okay? Your team came home safe?"

Antony nods. "Everyone's good." He glances at Marcus then turns back to Stephen. "Give us a few minutes?"

"Sure, I need to shower." He looks down at himself, then back up to the two men. "Good to see you again," he aims this at Marcus, as he backs up toward the hall down to their bedroom and bathroom. "Shout me when you're done okay?"

"You too," Marcus says, nodding at Stephen.

His boy safely out of earshot - for the most part anyway - Antony turns back to Marcus. "So, regardless of what went on with them, Rhys didn't work out here either. They didn't trust him and he wasn't able to reassure them. If he had, we wouldn't have been stuck with their fucking explosives guy."

Marcus nods, knowing Antony's right. That he's always fucking right. Christ. "But where does that put us? He's been doing the groundwork that you've been... away for," he amends, trying not to let any residual resentment towards the man down the hall fester.

"And you've been happy with him?"

"Well, no, but short of having you there?" Marcus points out, willing to go that far.

"What about Dhimitër?" Antony asks. They'd checked out his references, made some agreements with his former employers and he's carried out two jobs for them at this point. Very capably and with much better relations with the clients than Rhys.

Marcus perks up a bit. "He's good."

"Good enough?"

Tossing his clothes in the hamper, Stephen fires up the shower, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror - he's got bruises down from his hip along the outside of his thigh, he'd hoped they'd be gone by the time Antony came home... no such luck, and he doesn't want to give his lover anything else to worry over. From the small amount he's picking up from the conversation down in the living room, Antony and Marcus are having crew issues; and that worries Stephen - he needs to know his lover has his back covered, with people he trusts.

"Fuck," he sighs, climbing in under the water - this was not the homecoming he'd anticipated.

The map rolled up and slid back into its tube, Antony offers Marcus another beer.

"Thanks, but no," the other man says, shaking his head, although the offer's tempting. "I still need to make it home and shower, drop into my own bed."

"I can call a car for you," Antony offers but Marcus, like always, refuses. "So we're good with Dhimitër? Move him to the more delicate jobs and keep Rhys on retainer for when we need him?" There's no question the man's skilled, they never would have made that big a mistake, but he's not a diplomat, and in this work, if you're on the front lines, you need to be everything.

Marcus nods. "He's going to want to know why we're not using him more. He'll notice," he says, walking towards the front door, Antony behind him.

"I'll meet with him this week. Explain the situation," Antony promises.

"And what about our clients?" Marcus asks. "They're gonna be really pissed off."

Antony shrugs. "Let them be. I'll talk to them too. This is their problem, not ours."

Stephen's towelling himself off when Antony appears in the doorway. He straightens up, eyes on his lover. "Hey." He assumes Marcus has left.

"Hey," Antony offers Stephen a tired but genuine smile. It feels good to lay eyes on his boy. "What happened?" he asks, nodding at the bruises lining his side and thigh.

"Wasn't the harness this time," Stephen glances down and shrugs. "The new one works a treat. No, I fell off a car, lost my footing," he looks up to meet his lover's gaze. "Sorry." He always feels like he's damaging something that belongs to Antony when he hurts himself like this. "S'nearly gone."

"It looks like it hurt. How's it feel now?" Antony asks, moving closer, his beer set aside.

"It's fine, just don't press it." Stephen smiles, points his toe and turns his knee inward to allow Antony to inspect it. "It hasn't slowed me up, I just did 90 minutes at the free running place."

Antony runs a gentle hand over the bruise, the touch reminding him that, even with the early return, he's been without his boy for more than a week now. "Does that mean you're wiped out?" he asks with a smile.

"I'm tired, but probably no more than you are, I'm hungry, and I'm a little sore," Stephen reaches out to pet Antony's hair. "Let's order in, hit bed and see where that takes us huh?" he offers.

"Sure." Although there's a part of Antony that would rather push Stephen down and fuck him screaming until the last of the tension drains from his body. Christ. "What do you feel like?"

"Thai, noodles," Stephen, tilts his head to indicate the shower. "Get in, get clean, and I'll call it in, meet you in bed in five." He leans in to press a kiss to his lover's mouth. "I know it's a shit reason, but I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," Antony says, smiling at the kiss. "Order some spring rolls as well? The crispy ones?"

"Yes Sir." And although the words are teasing, they taste perfect in his mouth. Stephen pulls away then. "Five minutes," he warns with a wink, then he's gone to grab some shorts, the phone and the menu.

He's plumping up the pillows, drinks set on each bedside when Antony appears, towel around his waist. "30 minutes on dinner," he flips back the covers. "C'mere, you look so fucking tense."

Antony drops the towel and crawls into bed, shaking his head. "It was such a fucking clusterfuck."

Stephen settles in beside his lover, tugging up the covers, and opening his arms as a refuge. "But everyone's safe, that's good, right?" he asks.

Antony nods, pressing close, his body already responding to Stephen's proximity even as his mind continues to play over the details again and again. "Yeah, but - I don't fuck up, not like that - and it pisses me off they managed to fuck up _my_ job and all our planning. It should have been a fucking cake walk."

"You can't control everything Tony, people are unpredictable, you can only do your best, and expect the same from your team." He rubs his hand over Antony's shoulder. "Can you salvage it? The job I mean."

"Not without taking in a smaller team and taking a _lot_ bigger risk," Antony says. "So I've told them to find someone else."

"Good," Stephen squeezes his lover, then a little hesitantly he asks, "I couldn't help hearing some stuff, are you having problems with your people?"

"Rhys isn't working out as we hoped," Antony says after a moment. The part of him that wants to share more of what he does with Stephen struggling with the part that's always hidden everything. "He doesn't have the same rapport with our clients that I do."

"And why would he? You've been doing this a long time huh?" He tucks in his chin to look at Antony's face. "My only concern is your safety. I need to know you have the best people at your back, I know you trust Marcus - therefore I trust him, but the rest? " he shrugs. "If it means you have to go back to doing more of the prep like before me...I'll suck it up." It's not easy to offer that, but it's clear to him that Antony is struggling to let go - and for good reason it seems.

The offer surprises Antony but not really. Of course his boy, his lover, would be that unselfish. "Thank you. Hopefully we don't have to go there yet. We're going to try that guy from the restaurant that time. Dhimitër. He's done a few jobs for us and been really good so we're hoping he might have both skill sets." And if he doesn't, then they might be back to square one and the idea of Antony truly retiring might just be a fucking pipe dream.

"Just...keep me in the loop, okay? I need to know you're safe," Stephen closes his eyes and rubs his nose against Antony's skin. "Hmm you don't smell right, you know that?"

"No? What do I smell like?"

"Soap, not sex, or sweat or you..." Stephen pouts. "We'll have to fix that right?"

"Yeah." Antony smiles, eyes crinkling, and cups the back of Stephen's head, pulling him in for a kiss. "When did you say the food was coming?"

"Soon," Stephen's reply is almost lost in Antony's mouth. "Be quick," he adds, when he pulls back enough to shove Antony beneath him and climb on, his ass over his lover's junk. "You must be dying to fuck me - feel my tight hole sucking your dick in, my body opening up to take you, begging to be fucked and bred huh?"

Antony groans at the words, sliding his hands up Stephen's thighs before he reaches for the lube, quickly slicking his fingers and cock. "What do you think I dream of the whole time I'm away?" he grins, giving his boy a quick stretch, two fingers becoming three scissored and twisted before he's got his cock lined up, already pushing inside.

"Um, kittens and puppies?" Stephen winks, then his breath catches as he feels Antony right _there_ pushing in, stretching him so wide. "Oh fuck yes!..." he drops his head forward, chin to chest, to look down at his lover.

God. It's so fucking good. "What about you?" Antony asks, tilting his hips to push deeper, hands going to Stephen's cheeks to hold him open. "What do you dream of when I'm away?"

"Laying here, in our bed, in your arms," Stephen admits, his voice a little choked as he's stuffed full of cock. "Your voice at my ear..." It's not entirely true, he also dreams of wicked, violent and sexy scenes, waking up achingly hard and trembling. But most often, after a long, tiring day it's the intimacy he misses.

Antony nods. "I never used to mind sleeping alone," he confesses, going deeper, harder, mindful they're on borrowed time.

Stephen's eyes roll for a moment when Antony's balls meet his ass. "You do now," it's a statement of fact - they both know it. This time, Antony had left a tee shirt behind, one he'd worn for a couple of days, and Stephen had slept with it on his pillow, his lover's scent soothing him to sleep.

"Hate it," Antony murmurs, eyes locked on Stephen's face, on the pleasure clearly written there. But it's not just sleeping alone. If it was, he could find a dozen girls or boys to put in his bed. It's sleeping without Stephen, without _his_ boy. He wraps a hand around Stephen's cock, stroking to match his thrusts. "You gonna come all over me, boy?"

"Yes Sir," The title is easy to gift, even if this is mostly just 'them' fucking rather than scening. "I'd love to." His lover, marked as his...hell yeah, Stephen's on board with that! He grunts and changes his angle, leaning in a little more. "Oh! Oh fuck!"

"Do it," Antony orders, hands gripping Stephen's thighs as he drives up into him. "Fucking paint my skin with it."

Stephen does, hot, thick ropes of slick semen spatter over Antony's chest and belly, caught in the hair there. Stephen makes a pained noise, but his pleasure is absolute - a perfect release after too long apart.

For a long moment Antony's caught up in Stephen's orgasm. The pleasure on his face. The hot wet on his own skin. But his body moves forward without him and in the next second he's coming, spilling equally hot into his boy with a ragged groan.

Stephen drops forward, breathless and sweaty to press kisses to Antony's face, his mouth, messy kisses that don't always land where he'd intended. "Love you," he murmurs, "Glad to have you home."

"I'm so glad to be here," Antony murmurs, running his hands over Stephen's back. "I missed you so much."

Stephen opens his mouth to answer, when the bell rings to let them know someone wants to be let in. "Fuck," Stephen growls out his displeasure. presses a kiss to Antony's mouth before climbing off his lover. His legs are a little unsteady and he makes a grab for some sweat pants from the floor as he disappears. "I'll bring the food to you," he calls out over his shoulder.

"Okay. Thanks," Antony calls back, sitting up, their pillows plumped up against the headboard before he makes a quick trip to the washroom to clean up and wash his hands.

Stephen stops off at the kitchen to load up a tray with the food, plates, cutlery (chopsticks) and two beers, then he carries it all through to the bedroom, his eyes on his lover the second he's through the door. And he can't help the smile that curves his mouth. "So fucking good to come in here and find you where you should be," he winks as he sets the tray on the bed and kicks off the sweat pants. "Ew, be right back, I'm leaking..."

"I like you leaking," Antony points out, grinning wickedly and teasing. Mostly.

"Not over dinner dear," Stephen laughs as he heads to the bathroom. "You can give me some more for dessert, okay? Make me as messy as you like."

"I'm going to take you up on that," Antony says, taking a long drink from his ice cold beer. "God, that tastes good."

"What?" Stephen calls out from the bathroom where he's getting busy with a flannel and some hot water. "Better than me?"

"Mm. Maybe," Antony calls back, grinning.

"You're gonna pay for that!" Stephen laughs, rolling his eyes as he rinses out the flannel and dries himself off. "You got your rocks off and now I'm relegated behind beer huh?"

"I wouldn't say _behind_ the beer exactly, more like tied with it," Antony says, eyes crinkling at their corners. Definitely pulling his boy's leg.

Stephen's back in the room now, and he's cocked a brow, his mouth twitching as he approaches the bed. "Hmm, and I ordered extra spring rolls for you - I am SO unappreciated," he shakes his head as he settles at the end of the bed and starts to unload their food.

Antony laughs. "Truth is, I'd give up my scotch for you if I had to." And they both knew what a big deal _that_ would be.

"Wow, that is true love huh?" Blue eyes dance, amused and full of adoration as he hands Antony his plate. "I guess I can forgive you."

Antony grins. "I'm a pretty forgivable guy," he says, digging into his food, not even sure when he last ate. "Did you ever fight with your other sirs or boyfriends?" Curious if their getting along so well is par for the course with Stephen when he knows so many couples who do nothing but grumble at each other all the time.

The question is a little out of left field and Stephen pauses halfway to shoving an egg roll into his mouth. "Fight?" He shrugs, "Not really." Because Cam didn't tolerate it, and his previous relationships had either been transient or not easy going. He turns his attention back to his food.

"A few of my crew seem to do nothing but with their partners," Antony says, dipping a spring roll into some plum sauce. "And they actually like it that way."

"I don't know, you're my first serious partner - I like to think I'm easy going, and I guess our dynamic kind of controls some situations where conflict might occur, as to work and that side of your life? I trust you, what we do means I literally trust you with my life...so it's easy to trust you on day to day stuff." He looks down at his plate. "Do you talk then? About your partners, or is this just you picking up on things?"

Antony shrugs. "They all talk but they have wives or girlfriends. Other than Marcus. Sometimes I know someone is into guys too, radar or whatever, but in our line you pretty much keep that to yourself." He takes another sip of beer before adding, "I'm very private anyway."

"Macho men don't do cock huh?" Stephen huffs out a noise. "And yeah I knew that about you, the privacy thing, s'why I was so shocked to hear another voice when I got home today."

"Yeah." Antony nods. "We needed to debrief and I just wanted to come home so it was easier to bring Marcus here."

"I wasn't complaining," Stephen points out. "It's your place Tony." He leans over for another spring roll, glad Antony had had the forethought to remind him to order double.

"I know," Antony says, finally starting in on the rest of his food. "I just wanted to make sure you know I won't be making a habit of having other people here."

Stephen considers that for a moment - chewing his food as he does. "So - is it okay for me to invite people over? Like Katy or Willa, or David?" He frowns as he fights with some noodles, some trying desperately to escape onto the bed linen and not his plate.

It probably should've occurred to Antony that Stephen would want to have his friends over but it hasn't. And while the privacy freak inside him balks at the thought, there's really no reason to say no. Especially when he's gone so much. So he just smiles and says, "It's your place too."

He knows Antony well enough to know that cost him. Stephen smirks and his brow rises over a piece of chicken. "Don't worry, I won't be throwing parties, just inviting people I trust back here, and believe me, there aren't that many."

"I know and it's fine. Just - let me know beforehand if I'm home?" Antony says, taking another bite, more hot sauce added to his pile of noodles.

"I won't ask anyone if you're home, you're mine when you're home. I never know when you're gonna plan on jumping me," Stephen waves his fork at Antony, grinning. "This is our space when you're home."

Antony grins back. "Okay. Sounds good to me." He always locks up all his sensitive shit before he goes away anyway. So it's not like Stephen's mates'll stumble on anything. "And you're right. I do have a thing for accosting you the moment you come through the door." His grin widens.

"Promise me you'll never stop doing that?" Stephen raises up off his butt to lean in offering his mouth for a kiss. "Never stop being a bastard to me, never stop hurting me, never ever stop loving me?"

"I promise. Cross my heart," Antony whispers, cupping the back of Stephen's neck and kissing him deeply.


End file.
